The Morning After
by ziggy pop eno
Summary: Fred does what everyone least expects: graduates. He ponders it over in The Leaky Cauldron, and has an odd encouter with a goblins, that reassures him for some reason. My first post here, please r/r!Flames will be used to light Fillibuster Fireworks.


The Morning After  
By TheRogue  
  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for the characters you don't recognize from the books, yeah, those are mine. So I own next to nothing.   
  
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I had done it. That was all I could really think about. I, Fred Weasley, had done it. Inside, I know that there were quite a few people who believed I wouldn't do it. And then again, there were quite a few who believed I would, I suppose. And I'd done it without getting expelled, without being arrested by the ministry, and without making it to second base with anyone. Okay, so that last one I wasn't so proud of. But wasn't there a muggle song that went "two out of three ain't bad?"  
  
Now, on to the question of the day: what is it I did that surprised and impressed so many? It's easy, and I'm puzzled as to why you didn't think of it earlier.  
  
I had graduated. Amazing how something so simple, something that happens at least once to every wizard, could make someone so happy. Or so confused, depressed and scared, for that matter.   
  
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It was the morning after I had been certified a fully trained, adult wizard. The other night we had thrown a very large party in the Gryffindor common room, the last one we would have. An entire night of laughing, dancing yelling, hugging, even some crying (but George wouldn't admit to it). An entire night of being with people, and I was more then ready to be without people for at least a little while.   
  
So I had taken myself to the Leaky Caldron, for no particular reason. Others in this situation would say they wanted to 'think things over'. Not me, because there wasn't anything to think over. It was all so simple; so final and unmoving. That fact had hit me when I had woke up that morning, in my bed in the burrow next to George. I had woken up slowly, but then it had all dawned on me. After my realization, it went something like this:   
  
"George, wake up! Wake up RIGHT NOW!"  
  
"What is it, Fred, you great, stupid prat?! You know how long we were up last night, I got about an hour of sleep!"  
  
"But George...I'm scared...we're adults now!"  
  
"...Oh shit. You're right. Oh shit!"  
"Yeah, my thoughts, too."  
  
"Dammit, Fred, you're right! We're bloody adults!"  
  
"Doesn't mean we have to act like them, though."  
  
And that had been my entire 'thinking things over' period. The truth was so short and bittersweet, and frankly, I was scared to death of it. I felt like running and screaming away from the truth like a frightened baby. So I sat at the bar of the Leaky Caldron, sipping a Sarsaparilla and watching magical folks stroll in and out, some ordinary, some out-of-the-ordinary. There was a fellow with tiny little horns growing out of his skull, a woman with blue hair that she swore was her natural color, and a pack of goblins doing who knows what with what looked like severed toes.   
  
It was good to be away from all the people I knew slapping me on the back, and a break like this was just what I needed, even if I couldn't stay that long anyway. A woman then walked into the bar and sat down next to me, shrugging off her cloak and cracking some knuckles. She was normal looking by most accounts. She was of medium height, with an elfish face, gray eyes and short black hair, and quite a few ear piercings. The only thing that was odd about her was that over the blue velvet robes on her back, a fairly large battle-ax was strapped. There were leather holders over the blade parts, but it still looked quite menacing. From the looks on the other patron's faces, they were nervous about the ax, too. But no one was about to argue with her.  
  
She saw me eyeing the ax warily and guessed what I was thinking. "Don't worry about the blade. I don't intend to use it, actually, it's not even mine. See, I work for The National Museum of Wizarding in London, and I'm to bring it back there, since it was on loan. Magic blade, you see," she said to me.  
  
"Why do you carry it on your back, where people can see it?" I asked.   
  
"I dunno, guess I just like to show off," she shrugged, ordering a butterbeer from the bartender. "Can't help myself when I have my hands on something this neat."   
  
I laughed. "That sounds like me, always the center of attention. I guess I should introduce myself, now that we've conversed-I'm Fred Weasley," I said, shaking her hand.   
  
"Well met, Fred, I'm Gwyn Dobson," she looked away from me and over to the goblins in the corner. "Doesn't it seem like they're always in groups? It's like they're too scared to venture into the big, scary world by themselves."   
  
"Perhaps they go by the buddy system. Safety in numbers. But then again, with all the bar fights goblins are in, I suppose it wouldn't really work." A few goblins were now throwing the toes they had been talking over all around the bar. One landed right in my Sarsaparilla, ruining any thirst I had.   
  
"Yummy," Gwyn commented, pulled a toe out of her hair with a look of disgust on her face. Just then, a very, very odd thing happened. One of the goblins ran away from the group, sat in an empty barstool and started crying. Completely bawling, as you would never in a million years expect a goblin to do. Everyone in the bar looked as if they half thought it was funny and half thought it was pathetic. The other goblins were sniggering in the corner and looking very smug indeed.   
  
Then Gwyn went mad and got up and walked over to the crying goblin. She sat down next to him, and even tried to put her arm around him, but the creature shrugged it off. I gave her my best 'what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you' expression, and she replied with what was presumably her best 'leave-me-alone' expression.   
  
"He needs comforting!" she hissed, looking annoyed.   
  
"He's a goblin! He's not supposed to have feelings besides anger and greed!" I hissed back. I think the goblin heard, because he wailed even louder, and snorted through his long, stuffy nose. Gwyn didn't reply, but instead turned to the creature and asked him very softly, "What's wrong?" I thought she was being stupid again, since goblins spoke gobbledygook, not English. But I was surprised again.   
  
"Leaf meh alone," he sniffled in a heavily accented voice, muffled because his overly large hands covered his face.  
"C'mon, it'll help to tell someone," Gwyn prodded further. I knew that he'd rip her apart any minute. What she was doing was just insane. This whole situation was insane! This was a goblin, for crissake! They cried, like, once in a millennia.   
  
"Fergit hem, Godshock 'as always bin sensiteev," Came the mocking voice of another goblin, who apparently knew English as well. Gwyn looked surprised at the goblin calling the other 'Godshock', but whatever it was, she got over it quick. I just gave him a look, and then glanced back at this Godshock, who had just given a tearful growl to the goblin that had spoken. He then let out a savage string of gobbledygook, and the other replied sarcastically from the sound of it. Godshock surged forward towards the other goblin, looking furious and depressed at the same time, but Gwyn gripped him around his bony green shoulders and held him back. He was strong though, and continued to struggle forward as the other teased him on.   
  
"Help me, why don't you?" Gwyn begged when she saw me just staring with confusion. I reluctantly rushed over and grabbed one of Godshock's arms, and together we managed to pull him back to the bar and stuff him onto a stool.   
  
"Now, tell us what is going on!" I said to Godshock, a bit more aggressive then I intended.   
  
He glared at me, but spoke anyway. "Iss da toes. I cutted dem offa people meself, but da odders gone took 'em away! I work hard to git 'em so no one takes 'em away, but dey did!" Godshock said tearfully. By this time, most of the people who had been in the bar had left looking disgusted.  
  
Then one of the other goblins spoke, nastiness dripping from his words. "Iss his fault. He bin lyin' 'bout where dey comin' from, hows he gits 'em, so we'se take 'em. Fo' punishmenting, like."  
  
I almost laughed at the word 'punishmenting', but decided it was in my best interest not to. I also nearly gagged at the mention of cutting toes off, but decided that wasn't in my best interest either. Gwyn and I had to think quickly, other wise either a fight would break out or Godshock would become a permanent manic-depressive. Perhaps both, if luck was against us. I silently cursed the manager/bar keeper, who had fled at the first sign of trouble, the prat. Suddenly a thought occurred to me.  
  
"Say, Godshock, you wouldn't happen to have had a few drinks, would you?" I asked him, trying to sound as innocent as possible. Lord knows what he would've done if he thought I was accusing him. He narrowed his eyes anyway.  
  
"Yesh, but on'y a coople. Dat's what da bar's fer, righ'?" he said defensively, scratching his belly through his crude wool tunic.   
  
I sighed. "Well that clears up quite a bit. You're stark-raving drunk."  
  
"S'not me fault! Iss...I wan' me toes back...I'se worked so hard..." he rambled and then burst into tears again. I exchanged a look with Gwyn. I was wondering how the people who'd lost the toes were feeling, and why on earth the goblins prized them so much.  
  
"Any ideas?" I whispered to her. She nodded and turned toward Godshock.   
  
"Say, Godshock? What if you got something to replace the toes...something even better?" she asked, stroking his arm reassuringly.   
  
"Like wha'?" he inquired between sobs, wiping his elongated nose on an arm.  
  
"Well, what about this lovely battle ax I have here?" She asked, pulling it from its bonds on her back. I shook my head furiously, trying to get her attention. She ignored me. 'Stupid git's gonna get herself fired for this thing!' I thought angrily.  
  
Before I could do anything, Godshock stepped in. "Yeah...yeah, thas nice..." he murmured, taking the blade from Gwyn and inspecting it expertly. "Kay, I'se will take dat," he said quickly, with a final sniff.   
  
"Wonderful!" Gwyn exclaimed, standing up. "Then you enjoy your lovely ax, and I expect all of you," she said this time to the rest of the goblins, giving them a scathing look, "to behave towards Godshock. He needs some time to cool down." I stared at Gwyn with a mix and admiration and fright. I wanted to shout 'Who the hell do you think you are?' and 'You go girl!' at the same time. Instead I just followed her as we walked out of The Leaky Caldron onto Diagon Alley, the goblins muttering in gobbledygook as we filed out.  
  
"Why on earth did you give that green git your ax?! Wasn't that supposed to go to the museum? You'll get sacked for sure!" I stammered as soon as we were out of earshot of the Caldron.   
  
"Relax. When I heard his name, I realized that he works at the museum as well. I just have never met him, but I know for sure that he's in charge of our exhibit on the Goblin Rebellions. At work tomorrow I'll just ask for it back. He probably won't remember me or how he got it, judging from how drunk he was," Gwyn explained, giving me a know-it-all grin.   
  
"Oh...well, I guess you're just supreme ruler of the universe, aren't you?" I said, for lack of anything better to reply with.   
  
She smiled again and put her hands in her pockets. "No, but pretty close." She paused. "Well, that was fun. We should go goblin-taming more often, eh?"  
  
"Oh, definitely. Dragons next time, perhaps? Maybe we can persuade them to give up the violence and become healers. You don't have any dragons working at the museum, do you?"  
  
She just shook her head and gave me a playful push.  
  
I don't why, but that experience was very reassuring, when I looked at it later on. Maybe it was because I got through it with my sanity. Maybe it was that, if a goblin could be sensitive, then I could definitely survive out there, or Gwyn's different way of looking at non-humans. I'm not sure, but it sure as hell changed me. And yes, with me and Gwyn's combined efforts, we got Godshock to sober up. He still comes to us for counseling once in a while.  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
